


En Passant

by TheFrenchPress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFrenchPress/pseuds/TheFrenchPress
Summary: On an extended vacation in the south of France, Hermione runs into someone she wasn’t expecting to and her world is reshaped.Complete in two parts.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 18
Kudos: 144





	1. Part One

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

\--

To my lovely beta and dear friend DHLane, I owe you a huge debt of thanks - I will forever be grateful for our enduring friendship. 

\--

The clock in the hallway began to chime, indicating the hour loudly. One, two, three, four times before the sound settled back to the soft sway and tick of the grandfather clock hands turning.

Realising that she was running a little behind schedule, Hermione Granger quickly snapped her suitcase shut and grabbed the wand off her bed. She would need to get moving if she didn’t want to arrive late to her meeting. Grabbing the handle of her suitcase as well as her worn leather satchel, she rushed downstairs from her bedroom and did a cursory final sweep of her house to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She wasn’t going to be home again for at least two months so she needed to be sure that everything was as it should be. 

Finding nothing astray, she steeled herself and sucked in a nervous lungful of air. She had never done anything like this before in her life and she was both thrilled and nervous. The last time she had gone on vacation she had still been a student at Hogwarts. She had been tirelessly studying and then working for nearly ten years with no break, not that it had been hard for her to work that way. She loved her work – her friends liked to tease that she was a workaholic often. It wasn’t her fault that what she did was so interesting to her.

With a final nod, she silently said goodbye to her home and Apparated. 

When she reappeared, Hermione found herself in a thatch of trees that hid her from the small road a few meters away. It wouldn’t do if any Muggles were to see a woman appear out of thin air no matter where in the world she was, let alone in a seaside city. She could practically smell the salty ocean air as a small gust of wind whipped about her hair, tousling her loosely bound curls. She made her way over to the road, pulling her luggage in her wake and made her way along, stopping occasionally to check her location on the map she had been provided. She knew she could have Apparated a little closer but wanted to enjoy the short walk.

Saint-Jean-De-Luz was beautiful as the late afternoon sunlight cast a golden glow over the small coastal city. She had chosen this place because of the many holidays spent with her parents in France as a child, and as such was familiar with the language. Though they had never visited this exact city, she felt a deep connection with the country, and it allowed her to indulge in the nostalgia and remember the wonderful times with her parents fondly.

As it was, she had not seen her family since the end of the war on darkness. She had sought them out in Australia where they had settled in Sydney. But without their previous memories of having a daughter, the Granger’s had started a new life and dental practice and Hermione just couldn’t bring herself to remind them of the troubled and complicated life they had had raising a witch as Muggles. And so, Hermione had left them be, breaking her heart as she did so. She threw herself into work and study, finishing her final year at Hogwarts before entering in to an apprenticeship at St. Mungo’s to learn the craft of healing and further her study in potions. 

Whilst on the run with Harry and Ron during what should have been her seventh year at Hogwarts, Hermione has discovered a fascination with brewing potions and medicine as well as finding she had a knack for healing. It was something she was passionate enough about that she went and turned it into a career, and now worked as a Part-time healer and contract brewer for St. Mungo’s as well as brewing for Hogwarts at Minerva McGonagall’s pleading. When she wasn’t brewing or taking on patients, Hermione spent much of her time doing research and experimentation to improve existing medicinal potions, as well as creating new ones to replace outdated ones. 

And so that was how she found herself on holiday in southern France. 

Hermione had been feeling a little exhausted from the years of throwing herself into her work to distract herself from the loss of her family. And while she intended to do a small amount of research while she was there, she fully intended to take advantage of the beautiful city and the surrounding areas and allow herself to finally breathe. 

Pulling herself from her rumination, she continued on her path, rounding several street corners until she finally arrived at her destination. She had decided to rent out a holiday home – something small but beautiful so that she would have the ultimate relaxing environment to recharge in. She had never been a big fan of hotel stays, so something like this was perfect for her. She looked down at her wrist to check her watch. It was already half-past five, and the city was still awash with the glow of the sunset. As it was almost summer, days were longer so the sun would take some time to set before allowing the moon to have its moment.

While she waited for the property manager to arrive, she looked around and took in the houses surrounding her. Everything was nice and close, the streets somewhat narrow. All the houses were a rustic white shade with the beautiful red roofs that defined the city. It was utterly charming, and she was filled with excitement to begin exploring over the coming months. She was roused from her thoughts when she heard someone clear their voice nearby. She turned to see a smartly dressed older gentleman. He wore a white shirt with dark grey trousers and suspenders, an old waistcoat and a grey flat cap and had a friendly face. 

‘Mademoiselle Granger?’ He asked.

Hermione nodded yes. ‘Yes, sir I am. Pleased to meet you!’ 

They shook hands amiably before he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door of the house before them. ‘I apologise for my lateness, but I had another guest arrive late at one of the other properties I am responsible for. My name is Victor Durand.’ 

Hermione noted that though his accent was undeniable, his grasp on English was excellent. He probably worked with tourists all the time, and so was grateful not to have to immediately embarrass herself with her incredibly rusty french. 

‘Not a problem at all, Monsieur Durand,’ she replied, following him into the unlocked house where he switched on the foyer light. The inside was a minimalist dream, all while walls and natural furnishing, and that was just what she could see so far. ‘This is beautiful.’ 

‘Absolument, Mademoiselle! It it one of our finest properties,’ Victor replied. 

‘I thought the beauty of the city would be the only thing to captivate me, but this is perfect,’ she mused. 

‘There is much to be enjoyed in Jean-De-Luz,’ he replied, smiling warmly. ‘I will not keep you, thought as I have one last stop to make. I will give you my number to call if there is any help that you need while you are visiting. I hope you have an agréable stay!’  
Hermione accepted the business card and keys he presented her with and after a polite farewell, he left, shutting the door behind him. She stood there staring at the large antique iron key in wonder for a moment. Had she actually just gone away on holiday alone? She was certain that her friends would have made plans to join her while she was away, but she truly enjoyed being alone. She dearly loved Harry and the Weasley’s, but they were a lot to handle for long periods of time, especially now that most of them were married and making babies. 

Looking around she decided to survey her home for the next little while. It was beautiful. Every room had a relaxed design that tied with the rest of the house. She had seen some photos of the holiday home but being there was an entirely different experience. She carried her luggage with her upstairs, location the main bedroom and unsnapping the suitcase. She finally drew her wand out from her pocket then and used a spell she had learned at Hogwarts to unpack. She loved magic and how it made tedious tasks in her life such a breeze. The bathroom upstairs was an en-suite with a large claw-foot bathtub that she was excited to immerse herself in at some stage. 

With a soft sigh, she smiled and launched herself onto the bed, allowing her body to melt onto it as she finally relaxed.

-

The soft sea breeze whipped over the city, nightfall causing the air to be a little more crisp than it was during the day.

The weather in Saint-Jean-De-Luz was exceptional for the majority of the year making it the ideal place to live and visit. It was not a bustling metropolis, but that was the allure of the city – having the perfect blend of amenities and peacefulness. Opening the windows of his upstairs office, Severus Snape stood with a glass of scotch in hand and inhaled deeply. He could smell the salt in the air, the lavender that grew wild all over this city, and whatever his nearest neighbour was preparing for dinner – he couldn’t pinpoint exactly, but he could smell vegetables roasting with rosemary and sage he thought. 

He heard and felt his stomach rumble at the same time and the corner of his mouth quirked up involuntarily. With a sigh, he finished the last mouthful of his drink and allowed his body to draw him down the stairs and into his kitchen to find nourishment. He encountered leftover pasta he had prepared the evening before, but not a lot else in the muggle refrigerator he chose to use rather than a magically charmed cupboard as most magical folk did. Severus Snape was not afraid of using certain muggle devices to suit his lifestyle – otherwise he would have to give up his beloved coffee machine. 

It was Friday evening, so his supplies were low after a long week of work. He decided it would be prudent to go and collect some food so that he could eat over the weekend when he took breaks while he worked. He looked down at his attire and decided he was wearing entirely too much clothing to go out on the street. He hung his work robes on the hook by his front door and shucked off his black frock coat as well. Down to just white shirt and black trousers, he deemed himself ready to go out and pocketed his wand before grabbing a couple of yarn bags for his produce. 

Severus finally left the house, locking the door behind him with a key. He lived in a largely Muggle populated city and it wouldn’t do for him to not appear to lock his home. Walked with long strides, it wasn’t long until he reached his destination – a little épicerie that he would frequent. The owner, a kindly woman perhaps only a few years older than he was, was kind and reminded him of his oldest friend, Minerva McGonagall. He walked through the aisles of the store, putting fruit and vegetables into his bags, some fine cuts of meat and cheese, a loaf of brioche and sourdough as well as a dozen eggs. 

He moved to the back of the store and browsed the wine available. He selected two bottles, one white and a red of a respectable year, adding it to his bag before moving back towards the front counter. Marie tallied up his purchases and as he paid, he was certain she did not charge him enough as usual. He thanked her with the barest hint of a smile before ducking his head slightly as he left the store passing a shorter brunette woman on his way. His nose picked up a scent in the air surrounding her hair as he walked past, causing him to double take. There was something familiar, almost nostalgic about it. 

Shaking his head, Severus blinked and kept walking, unable to shake the feeling of familiarity as he made his way home. 

-

Hermione sat back and stretched out her arms and back, placing her quill and notes under her coffee mug on the little table on her balcony so that the wind would not sweep it away. She had a small table and chairs upstairs with a balcony that abutted her bedroom. The view was spectacular. She had been in Jean-De-Lux for a little over a week and it had been glorious. She was entirely relaxed in a way she had not been in many years. 

So far, she had explored a little of the city, but also spent a fair amount of time in the home she was renting. 

She had eaten out almost every day, though had managed to find a nice little épicerie on her second night there for a few little bits for the house. She had already gone through these and decided that it was about time for her to go back and suss out a some more substantial food so as not to eat out constantly. As nice as it was to have a break from cooking, she didn’t want to go home from her holidays having totally ruined her fitness. Picking up her notes and mug, she went inside, pulling closed the french doors behind her and locking up. She left her notes on the bedside table and returned the mug to the kitchen, taking note of what she already had before grabbing a few bags and heading to the market. 

She walked at a leisurely pace, allowing her eyes to roam around and really take it all in. If she could live there forever, she would. But as much as they idea spoke to her, she would miss her friends and oddly enough, her job. Rounding the corner, Hermione felt the breath leave her chest and she ran into a tall, solid figure leaving the store. She stumbled momentarily before a pale, long-fingered hand reached out to grasp her arm and prevent her from falling. Embarrassed and flustered, Hermione looked up to apologise for not being more careful but stopped dead in her tracks.

The inscrutable, black depths of Severus Snape’s eyes bore into her own, and she stood there, mute. She felt him release her arm as it dawned on him exactly who it was running into him on his way out of the market. 

‘Miss Granger,’ he said, his voice low. ‘What on god’s green earth are you doing here?’ 

Hermione felt tongue tied, but swallowed and smoothed hands over her pink summer frock as she tried to regain her composure. ‘Hello Professor Snape,’ she finally said. ‘I could ask you the same.’ 

There. She had managed to reply without coming across as a scared little door mouse. Snape’s eyebrows rose, almost as though he could not believe she had given him that tiny bit of cheek. 

‘I live here,’ he said bluntly. 

Hermione had no idea why she was surprised. Severus Snape had disappeared from England almost as soon as his name was cleared of any wrong doing after the war. No one knew where he had gone to, presumably although she did not know if that was the case. Suffice it to say, no one in her circle seemed to know anything about Snape. 

‘I’m on holiday,’ Hermione finally replied, answering his first question.

‘I see.’ 

His voice was slightly strained. It appeared to Hermione that despite his outward appearance of composure, Snape had also been surprised by literally running into someone from his past. She had no idea why, but a sudden urge came over her and she was unable to stop the next words from tumbling nervously out of her. 

‘Perhaps Sir, I might be able to interest you in a coffee and then you can tell me about your life since the last time I saw you?’ 

Snape looked as surprised as she felt. ‘You want to have coffee with me? Your surly ex-professor?’ 

Hermione forced herself to nod. She was starting to wonder what was wrong with her and why seeing her former professor was making her act like a fool. ‘Well it has been a long time since you last taught me. I don’t know if you are still a grouch or whether you have mellowed with time or not,’ she said, feeling slightly emboldened. 

She wasn’t sure if it were possible, but Snape’s eyebrows rose even further. ‘Fine,’ he said after a moment of thought. ‘Follow me.’ 

Hermione had to force herself into action as Snape spun on his heal and began to stride off and she didn’t want to lose sight of him. Now that the initial shock had worn off, she had a chance to take in things that het mind had blocked out during the surprise run-in. Snape was wearing jeans! They were black, granted but sh had never once seen him in anything other than his teaching attire from Hogwarts. Not only that, but he had on a white button-down shirt that was only partially tucked into said jeans and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows. Who was this man in front of her? 

He stopped out the front of a house, with his grocery bags still in one hand while the other reached into the pocket of his jeans and fished out a key. Realising that this was where Snape lived, she looked up and around, taking it all in. His home, much like the rest in the city was white on the outside with a red terracotta roof. He opened the front door, and her curiosity over what the interior would be like made her cast her attention back to Snape. 

‘I have to store my purchases, but afterwards we can adjourn to a café if you would like?’ 

Her eyes snapped up to look at his face, but she found herself distracted by the top two buttons of his shirt laying undone, the long column of his throat visible with a serious of scars and fang marks on one side. 

‘Oh, okay,’ she said, flushing at the look he gave her for staring. 

‘Didn’t your parents ever teach you that it isn’t polite to gawk at people, Miss Granger?’ His smirk was almost evil. 

Without waiting to hear her reply, he slipped inside his house leaving Hermione to stand and wait in the doorway. She fidgeted nervously. Was she really about to go out for a coffee with her former professor while on her holiday in France where he actually lived? She had so many questions, and she had a feeling that Snape probably wouldn’t want to be interrogated by her and bombarded with questions. Her reverie was broken by sound of Snape’s footsteps as he walked towards her. 

‘Shall we?’ He gestured out at the rest of the city. 

‘Of course, after you,’ she replied. ‘As you live here, I am sure you know where all of the best coffee is located.’

‘I suppose I know a place or two,’ he said quietly. ‘Keep up with me and you shall see.’ 

After a brisk ten-minute walk, Snape stopped at a pretty little café that reminded her of the ones in Paris with the white scalloped umbrella’s and iron furniture. They sat down at one of the tables opposite one another, and a waiter came to take their coffee order. They sat in silence until Hermione couldn’t take it any longer. 

‘How long have you lived here?’ She asked, curious. 

‘A little under seven years,’ he answered gruffly. 

‘What do you do for work?’ 

‘I am a consultant for the French Ministry of Magic. I also do work with potions and write articles and studies occasionally.’

‘Oh! That is interesting.’ Hermione couldn’t help but get excited the moment he mentioned that he was doing work on Potions. ‘Are you working on anything big at the moment?’ 

Snape smirked at her enthusiasm. ‘Nothing I can discuss as yet,’ he murmured just as their coffee arrived at the table. ‘Merci,’ he acknowledged, thanking the waiter. 

Hermione did the same as her coffee was placed before her. The waiter smiled at the both and gave a nod to Snape before leaving them alone once more. 

‘They seem to know you. Do you come here often?’ 

‘Small talk isn’t really your forte, is it Miss Granger?’ 

Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm as she blushed at his words. ‘You haven’t changed much,’ she grumbled. ‘I wasn’t expecting to literally run into you on my holiday.’ 

‘And what are you on holiday from?’ 

His question took her by surprise. She wasn’t expecting him to ask her anything about herself, nor had she really expected him to be forthcoming with his responses, so this conversation was going a lot better than she expected. 

‘I am a Healer and Potions researcher. I also produce most of the medicinal potions for St. Mungo’s and Hogwarts,’ she answered. 

He looked at her in surprise. ‘I did not realise that you decided to pursue a career in medicine.’ 

She nodded. ‘I love my work. I started off with doing more of the healing side of things before I got to branch out further into my field of interests last year. I mostly brew and develop new potions to replaced outdated and less effective options.’ 

‘I was unaware that you had a passion for this kind of work,’ he said, rubbing long fingers against his chin. ‘Although I can’t say I was all that good a teacher back then. I was rather pre-occupied.’ 

Hermione nodded. She understood why he had been the teacher that he was. There was a lot of pressure, walls had been closing in on him from both sides. On one side he had Albus Dumbledore who had decided that Snape’s soul was an okay sacrifice in exchange for saving Draco Malloy. On the other he had Voldemort, a violent, mentally disturbed psychopath bent on destroying the Wizarding world who set his pet snake on Snape despite doing his bidding. The man before her had had a difficult life at best. 

‘You did the best you could under the circumstances. And really, none of us died in class despite our best efforts,’ she said with a small smile. 

She saw the corner of his mouth turn up for a moment before his face went blank again. A silence settled over them. Hermione contemplated the man before her. As his student, she had never really thought of him as a man – teacher’s were just androgynous blobs to most of the children in their care, too wrapped up in their own hormone fuelled drama to pay any notice. 

Severus Snape was a uniquely attractive person. He was not dashing. His hair which was longer now than it has been in his days at Hogwarts appeared clean and silky. The molten black eyes she was certain would enrapture any woman with their intensity. And his nose was large, but perhaps not as hawkish as it had once appeared. He didn’t look as tired now. The signs of intense stress had been erased from his features. She was glad – this man before her deserved a life of peace more than anyone she knew. 

‘I apologise, Professor,’ she said suddenly. 

‘Whatever for?’ He asked, frowning slightly. 

‘I’m certain you chose to move to this place to escape your old life and all of the stresses it came with. I feel terrible that I have brought them back here to you.’ 

His rough bark of laughter caught her off-guard. ‘I will admit that seeing you was unexpected, but you are hardly the worst memory I have from my old life over the pond.’ 

Hermione let out a small sigh of relief. Before she has even realised, she had done it, she reached over a hand and laid it on top of one of his, giving it a light squeeze. She was a very tactile person, so it was natural for her to touch patients reassuringly on occasion. His hand was surprisingly warm under hers. Her heart was pounding in her throat as she cast her eyes up to his face. His expression was blank, but she saw his Adam’s apple bob slightly as he swallowed. 

‘Forgive me,’ she said, withdrawing her hand. ‘I’m a touchy sort. I promise that while I am here in Saint-Jean I will try to keep out of your way as much as possible.’ 

‘There is no need for that Miss Granger. I assure you this has not been a burden; however, I must take my leave for now.’ 

They both stood up and headed inside the café to pay, but before Hermione could pay, Snape nodded and waved at the waiter behind the counter and gestured for her to leave ahead of him. Apparently, it was taken care of. She walked silently beside him as they left, her mind working over their conversation. She was so focussed that she didn’t realise Snape had come to the stop and she ran right into him. Again. 

His hand once again grasped her, holding fast to her upper arm this time and heaving her towards his chest to prevent her from falling backwards. Her hands-on instinct came up to brace against his chest and she could feel the muscles flex and his heart beating under them. It was so strange. Her pulse quickened in a way that it hadn’t for quite some time. She lifted her head to look up at his face, trying to find something in those damn eyes staring intensely into hers. 

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, finding her voice and pulling away. She was definitely flushed. ‘I don’t know what is happening to me today. I am not normally this clumsy…’ 

‘This is me,’ he said, gesturing at his front door. 

‘Oh.’ 

‘Until we inevitably run into one another again,’ he murmured. 

‘Until then. Good evening, Professor.’ 

And with that he was through the door, and Hermione was left in a bit of a daze as she wandered back to the épicerie to buy the produce she originally left her home for.

-

The humidity was high that day, and Severus was in an irate mood. He had been in meetings all day at the Ministry headquarters in Paris, which was his least favourite city in France, and the most odious task in his work.

He walked out of his last meeting for the day and removed himself swiftly to his office to collect his paperwork and make his way home. He was putting the last few sheets into his briefcase when there was a knock on the door. Sighing heavily, he made his way over to said door and opened it to find his colleague from the office next door before him. He was a rather short man, although at 6’3” Snape was rather tall so that was probably not the case.

‘How can I be of service, Gerard?’ Severus said, not bothering to hide his impatience. He might not be in England anymore, but he wasn’t about to change his personality.

‘Ah, Snape. The other gentlemen on this floor and I are going to the club de messieurs for a boisson and cigare,’ Gerard replied, completely oblivious to Snape’s annoyance. ‘We were wondering if you would like to join?’ 

‘Perhaps another time,’ Severus answered, his annoyance fading somewhat at the invite. He had on occasion joined them, but today he was intent on returning home to begin his weekend as soon as possible. ‘I have a lot on this weekend.’ 

‘Ah, not a problem,’ the other man said jovially. ‘Adieu mon ami.’ 

‘Au revoir.’ 

As the other man went on his way, Severus quickly summoned what remained to take home for the weekend, shrunk the briefcase down and pocketed is and his wand. Locking up his office, he Apparated straight into the front entryway of his home. He dropped the resized briefcase in his upstairs office, and began stripping off his heavy robes, really starting to feel the heat and humidity in the air. He hoped it would rain. At least if it rained, the air would be less thick afterwards. 

He knew that he could have just cast a cooling charm over himself, but decided that a shower would probably put him in a better mood, so he removed his remaining clothes and wordlessly banished them to the laundry hamper downstairs. The shower head in his en-suite was a large rain-like head so as he stepped under it, he could feel the water literally melting away his cares. Closing his eyes, he stood there and took a deep breath. 

The past month or so he had been tense. Not because his work was stressful – it was actually the thing keeping him sane at present. Not because he did not enjoy living in Jean-De-Lux. It was as beautiful and peaceful there as it had been the day he moved in. It was because Hermione Granger had decided to bloody move there for the Summer, and it was the last thing he was expecting to have to deal with. The woman was having an effect on him that he simply had not been prepared for. He didn’t know if there was any way he could have prepared to see one of the people from his life seven years ago. 

And the most annoying part of it all was that she was utterly and totally captivating – so unaware of how beautiful she had become. 

He frowned and started washing his hair. Severus was not comfortable with the affect that she was having on him. Over the past two weeks since their initial run-in he had been thinking of her often. When he wasn’t distracted or occupied, his mind drifted to their encounter. Especially to the moment when he had caught her arm. Her wide amber eyes had stared straight into his own, and he had found it difficult to breathe, so instantaneous was his attraction. Now Severus was no saint – he had taken a couple of lovers since being in France, but it had been at least twelve months since the last casual fling. 

It had to be that he was just frustrated – he could not possibly be attracted to one third of the Gryffindor trio that had caused him so much grief. 

Severus quickly finished off his ablutions in the shower, before stepping out and casting a quick drying spell over his body. He left his hair damp – the drying spells always left his hair far too fluffy with flyaways. If he let it dry naturally, the result was much better. He dressed is a simple white button down and his usual black jeans. Jeans were not something he ever would have seen himself wearing several years ago, but they were practical and comfortable to wear around his home and the city. 

He wandered downstairs and found his loafers and socks, before going into the kitchen to see what food he had. As usual on a Friday the refrigerator was relatively empty, as were his store cupboards. Severus decided he would eat dinner out that night and pick up his groceries on the way home. As it was only six in the afternoon, there was still plenty of light out. He pocketed his wand, locking up the house after him and walked down the street and towards the market district to see what smells could lure him in for a meal. 

As he approached his favourite seafood restaurant, he felt himself slow as he recognised the slight form of Hermione Granger, standing at the front perusing the menu. He almost came to a complete halt as he pondered what to do. He knew that avoiding her entirely was not possible, but he also had very little practice dealing with this situation. It didn’t matter for long though – his mind was made up for him when she turned to look over her shoulder, her soft brown curls sweeping around as she did, and their eyes met once more. 

A small smile curved her pink petal lips. ‘Hello, Professor,’ she greeted. 

‘Miss Granger,’ he acknowledged with a nod. 

‘I think I would prefer you dropped the Miss if you please. Call me Hermione.’ 

‘That might be difficult after years of referring to you as such, but I will make an effort to try,’ Severus replied. ‘I suppose I should offer you the same – my given name is Severus.’

He saw a delightful little blush settle over her cheeks at that, and she beamed up at him. She was not a short woman, but the top of her head was only to the bottom of his jaw. He could smell the perfume she wore – lilacs and rain. She smelled like the first day of spring and he was utterly captivated by it. 

‘Were you planning on having dinner here, Severus?’ 

His name on her lips sent a jolt right through his chest. ‘I had thought to.’ 

‘Would it be presumptuous of me if I were to invite myself to join you?’ She asked, staring up at him with those liquid amber eyes unblinkingly. 

‘Not at all,’ he said, trying to force his heartbeat to settle. ‘After you.’ 

He gestured for her to go ahead of him, and they were seated inside by the window that looked out on the market nearby. It was bustling and busy there at this time of the day with many people picking up produce for the weekend ahead. The waiter returned with water and menus for them and Severus ordered a wine. 

‘I’ll have the same,’ Hermione said, smiling at him. ‘I trust your judgement better than my own on the wines here.’ 

‘Bring a bottle s'il vous plaît,’ Severus then told the waiter, who nodded and swiftly moved away. 

Severus knew he was going to need a lot of wine to get through this impromptu dinner. He allowed himself a moment to survey the woman across from him beneath his lashes. She was staring out at the market, her chin propped up on her hand as her elbow rested on the table. She was wearing a linen dress that evening in a sage green colour. It was demure enough despite having thin straps around her shoulders, cinching in at her waist before the fuller skirt fell to about mid-calf on her. Her long curly hair was out and free around her apart from one fine tortoiseshell clip pulling some hair behind her ear on one side. 

She was very becoming. Inwardly groaning, he felt his body physically react to her. He swallowed, through his throat was dry. 

‘Your hair is damp,’ she said, stirring him from his own musings. 

He could see her blush travel across her cheeks and down her elegant, pale throat. It did nothing to keep him in check, making his trousers feel uncomfortably snug. 

‘Drying spells create too many flyaways,’ he replied. 

She grasped at her glass of water then and swallowed some. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said as she placed the glass on the table once more. ‘I feel like an idiot. I swear I’m not normally this dense.’ 

‘I think that perhaps it might be easier for you if we talk about your potions work,’ he said, grasping at anything to move past the awkwardness they were experiencing. ‘Have you been working on much since I saw you last a couple of weeks ago?’ 

There. A safe topic. Severus pat himself on the back for his quick thinking. She smiled at him and launched into the subject with an enthusiasm that he found charming. And now not only was the woman before him achingly attractive, but he also now had a greater respect for her intelligence and work ethic. She was the complete package – appealing physically, and mentally stimulating. She was also kind – her warmth radiated out of her like the sun. And Severus was like a shadow – too long he had been cloaked in darkness that her presence was like a balm. 

‘So, how was your week at work?’ Hermione asked, breaking him out of his reverie. 

He shrugged. ‘It was a wholly uninteresting week, capped off with the most odious day of meetings today. Some weeks it is incredibly busy, other’s I have plenty of time to focus on my own work. This was one of the latter.’

‘I know you said you couldn’t say, but I am still curious about what you are working on.’ 

Severus smirked at her boundless curiosity. ‘Of course, you’d ask again,’ he said, amused. ‘Very well, I am certain that you will keep this between just the two of us, yes?’ 

She nodded. ‘That goes without saying.’ 

‘A cure for Lycanthropy.’ 

Her eyes widened. ‘That is incredible,’ she said, somewhat breathless. 

‘As I am sure you are somewhat aware, over the years Remus Lupin and I were able to bury the hatchet as it were and became friends of a sort. I know he is no longer here to benefit from such a potion, but I think a part of me wanted to create this in his memory,’ Severus divulged. 

‘You are so unlike the man I thought you were, Severus Snape,’ she said, her eyes glassy with tears unshed. 

‘You’re not exactly the same bushy-haired know-it-all of your youth,’ he retorted, drawing a shy laugh from her. ‘Outside of the construct of a school with Houses that dictate what people should think about you as a person, we are free to be our true selves.’ 

‘You’ve hit the nail on the head with that one,’ Hermione agreed. 

They didn’t have a chance to linger on the conversation as their waiter returned to take their dinner order. Severus ordered the lobster bisque and Hermione chose a marinara pasta dish. The wine arrived and their glasses were poured, and Severus knew that there was a mutual understanding that had formed between them that day. Hermione continued to probe him for details about his work, and it must have been the wine, but he agreed to invite her to his home to see his lab and look at the work he had done so far. A small part of him was quietly pleased that she wanted to spend more time with him. 

But there was a gnawing in his gut. She was on holiday. Eventually that meant she was going to return to London and resume her normal life. It would be unwise for him to become to attached to her while she was there. Their food arrived a short while later, and they ate in comfortable silence, finishing the wine as they did so. Severus paid for dinner without her notice, which made her frown and batt him on the arm for doing it to her for the second time. Without saying any words, he walked with her back up the hill towards the grocer and the house she was staying in. At the door to her house, she pulled out the key in the small handbag she had slung over her shoulder. 

‘Thank you again for dinner and the companionship, Severus,’ Hermione said, looking at him through her long lashes. 

And before he could do anything, she placed her hand on his chest and leaned up to place a soft kiss on his surprised cheek. He inhaled sharply, his skin on fire where here hands and lips had touched. He wasn’t afforded a chance to react though, for she was at her door unlocking it and disappearing into the house. He walked away, his own hand reaching up to his face, his fingers cold against the burning flesh. He decided that the market would have to wait until the next day and made his way home instead. Once inside, he leaned his back against the front door, heart hammering in his chest still. 

Whatever was forming between them, he was not sure he knew of a way to stop it. His reactions to her were so intense that he was beginning to feel overwhelmed. He wondered what she had been thinking, touching him and kissing him that way. It was an innocent press of her soft lips to his face mind – so it didn’t necessarily mean anything. It was her behaviour afterwards though – the blush that stole across her cheeks and her rapid disappearance into her house. 

Pushing himself off the door, he made his way upstairs and peeled off his clothes, laying them over the armchair in the corner of his bedroom. He slid into bed between the crisp linen sheets that were cool against his heated skin. Whatever was happening, he didn’t want to think about it for now – his exhaustion was beginning to creep in on him and he closed his eyes. That night he dreamed of her amber eyes and lilacs in the rain.

-

Her skin was slick with a fine layer of sweat as she tossed and turned in her bed, unable to reach a deep and comfortable sleep. 

Unable to try and pretend any longer, Hermione sat up and reached for her wand, quickly charming the french doors onto the small balcony open to allow the breeze to cool her. She already had on a thin camisole and shorts, so there wasn’t exactly a whole lot left for her to strip down to. She arranged the pillows behind her so that she could recline on the bed, pulling her legs up against her and hugging them. 

The past few days she had been distracted. Thoughts of her dark, brooding ex-professor came far too easily to the forefront of her mind. Her research had been ignored in favour of walks around the city and along the beach. She wanted to shake him from her head but each time he was there her pulse would speed up and her cheeks would warm. She had kissed him. Dropping her head to her knees, she puffed out a sigh. Her lips could still remember the feeling of his warm flesh, the beginnings of stubble rasping lightly against them. 

Severus Snape was making her feel things that she had not felt in an awfully long time. 

Her attraction to him had hit her like a freight train to the stomach, it was so instantaneous. If she didn’t know better, she would think that he was maybe just a little bit attracted to her as well. But that was a ridiculous notion. Severus Snape was a decorated war hero and Potions Master whose intelligence surpassed her own. He was also handsome as sin in his own tall, dark brooding and mysterious way. She was plain Hermione Granger – the bossy swat who terrorised his classroom. And that was just how it was going to be. 

She had a little over a month left in Saint-Jean-De-Luz remaining, and she was wondering just how she was going to make it through without embarrassing herself in front of Snape again. She had not seen him again in the three days since their dinner, which was fortunate because she was an utter wreck after she practically ran away from him at her doorstep. Despite this, she was still curious about his work and desperately wanted to get a look at the Potion Master’s lab. It would be worth all the embarrassment in the world to see a master at work. 

Huffing, she released her legs and unfolded herself to stand. She knew sleep would continue to evade her, so she went downstairs to retrieve a glass of water. She drank the water as she stood by the sink in the kitchen, tipping it upside down on the drying rack before returning to her bed to attempt to settle into sleep again. The room was a lot cooler now that the doors were open. She slid under the sheets, pulling her pillows back down under her head and closing her eyes, allowing her exhaustion to finally pull her into dreams. 

When she awoke later, the sun was shining beams of light into the room around the curtained windows on the opposite side of the room to the balcony. 

Stretching, she slid out of the bed and into the bathroom to perform her morning ablutions, using the loo before cleansing and moisturising her face. She decided to apply some sunscreen that day and dressed in comfortable tan shorts, a sort sleeved linen button-down shirt, and some sturdy walking boots. She wanted to explore a little that day and thought she might Apparate to Biarritz for the day and explore the town and coast. It was definitely known as a tourist destination and there were a lot more surf sports entertained there so she expected there would be a lot more families and children. 

She grabbed her satchel, throwing in a sketch book and some pencils along with a water bottle and her sunscreen and set off for the day. She apparated to the outskirts of town and started off down towards the bustling centre. She walked along the beach that day, had a late breakfast of croissant and coffee, sat and drew a little in her sketch book, and enjoyed an ice cream. It was a completely carefree day – a perfect distraction. 

By the time it was two o’clock she was feeling a little worn out. She was slightly sweaty from the heat, but also salty from being by the seaside. At one point in the day she had been forced to pull her hair back in a loose braid to prevent it from flying everywhere and growing three sizes from the humidity. She was too exhausted to walk back to where she arrived, and so found herself in an empty alleyway behind a restaurant and Apparated back to Saint-Jean from there. When she arrived home, she showered and immediately collapsed in her bed for a nap.

-

A couple of hours later she woke and decided to go to the market and bought some clementines so that she had some snacks and found a spot by the harbour to sit and draw. Pulling one of the clementines out of the bag, she pulled back the zesty skin and selected a section, marvelling at how delicious the fruit was – sweet and subtly tangy, and bursting with juice. A little of the juice escaped her and she darted her tongue out over her lower lip to catch it. 

Hermione had thought she was alone until a shadow was cast across her page. She looked up, following the black boots, trousers and legs all the way up until she saw the familiar face of Severus Snape looming over her. His eyes were fixated on her face. She felt warm course through her at the sight of him, nervous excitement that she found herself experiencing a lot with him lately. Without a saying a word, she reached down and pulled a section of clementine apart from the rest and held it up towards him. 

He stared at her outstretched hand for a moment before ducking down, much to her surprise, and sitting beside her on the dock, crossing his long legs in front of him. His long-fingered hand accepted the slice from her, his accidental touch sending electricity up her arm and molten heat pooled in her belly and beyond. She watched with fascination as he inserted the clementine slice past his thin lips, and she wondered if they were as soft as they looked. For such a sharp featured man, he certainly looked like he had soft, smooth lips. 

She was so entranced by his mouth that she didn’t even notice him pick up a slice of the fruit until it was held out before her. 

Her breath quickened and she could see something in his eyes that beckoned her to take the offered fruit. So, she steeled herself, and with more bluster than she had ever shown in her life, she leaned towards his hand and gently took the slice of fruit into her mouth, not once breaking eye contact with him. It was utterly sensuous this exchange between them. His thumb brushed against her bottom lip as he pulled away and she saw his expression change in that moment to one of shock, and horror at his actions. 

He looked as though he were about to stand and leave, but Hermione was not going to have it. She reached out a hand and grasped his arm, stilling his movements. 

‘Stay,’ she whispered, barely able to get the words out. 

She turned back to look at him and his face had relaxed, his eyes had changed again to reflect his surprise now. 

This time it was her turn to be bold, and she picked up yet another section of fruit, this time holding it out to him. He paused, unsure, before finally seeming to make a choice and leaning forwards to accept the proffered fruit. Hermione allowed herself to also brush her fingers against his lips and found them to be soft and yet firm at the same time. As she moved to drop her hand, he caught it with his own. Holding it up between them and examining her fingers thoughtfully. 

‘You have such delicate hands,’ he said, his voice a little rough. 

Her stomach tightened at his words. ‘So they are,’ she replied, feeling a little light-headed. 

‘I am finding myself rather afraid of you, Hermione.’ 

‘How so?’ She asked, as he continued to hold her hand, his thumb sweeping over her palm delicately, deliberately. 

‘I have not allowed another person to feed me anything since I was a child,’ he answered, finally releasing her hand and looking down his legs to his shoes. ‘In fact, there are a great many things that have occurred between us these past weeks that I do not understand.’ 

Hermione nodded in understanding. ‘I know what you mean.’ 

‘Why?’ He asked suddenly. 

‘What do you mean, why? You’ll have to be more specific.’ 

‘I have spent the past seven years putting the past behind me, and yet here you are. And I can’t help but feel drawn to you,’ he said, turning to look at her again. ‘I don’t think I have ever been this honest with another person before in my life and yet for some reason I feel compelled to tell you everything. You have cast a spell on me, witch.’ 

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath at his confession. ‘Does it really matter why? Isn’t it okay that it just is, for now at least?’ 

He ducked his chin before nodding a little. ‘Perhaps.’ 

No more needed to be said. Hermione picked up another section of clementine then and held it up as a peace offering. He gently wound his fingers around her wrist, his thumb stroking a small circle around it before he leaned in and took the fruit into his mouth, lips lingering on her flesh, his tongue lightly brushing over her fingers. Her stomach almost bottomed out at this gesture. There was such an intense, palpable attraction between them that it could have been cut with a knife. She let out a shaking sigh, realising he hand not let go of her wrist yet. His eyes were like steel as he leaned into her hand, his lips pressing against the pulse point where hand and wrist met. 

It was an undeniably sensual moment, as his warm breath chuffed against her flesh. He finally let go of her, but she decided then not to withdrawn her hand and instead reached up to touch his cheek, her fingers delicately weaving through the silken hair at his temple. He leaned into the touch much to her surprise. Severus Snape was a man who had gone far too long in his life without kind touches and actions, which both saddened and emboldened her. She shifted until she was on her knees beside him and put her hand beneath his chin, lifting his face up to face her. And with a sharply indrawn breath, she leaned towards him slowly, giving him plenty of time to object but saw none. 

When their lips met it was as though a fire had crackled to life. Just the touch of skin to skin was making Hermione dizzy with arousal. It wasn’t long before she wanted more than just the press of his mouth and she boldly snuck her tongue past her lips, gently swiping it along his bottom lip. And that had done it – Snape’s hands grasped her at her waist and neck and his mouth was suddenly like fire. His own tongue joined the exploration, taking it into her mouth and tangling with her tongue sensuously before retreating and allowing her to follow. 

After some time has passed, they pulled back to catch their breaths. His cheeks were flush with colour she had never seen in them before, and his eyes were half closed. His lips glistened with their combined saliva and were also flush a little pink from their kisses. She imagined that she would look much the same as he did. She could see a little confusion in his eyes as well, but he seemed to be ignoring that for the time being. 

‘You have enraptured me,’ he said finally, his voice low and rough. 

‘I was going to say the same thing to you,’ she replied softly. ‘How did you know I was here?’ 

‘I saw you when I returned home this afternoon. Something made me follow you down here,’ he said truthfully. 

‘I’m glad you did,’ she said, dropping her hands from his face. 

‘As am I,’ he murmured, releasing her from his hold. 

She sat back down beside him and scooted in close beside him, her leg touching his. His arm wound around her then, much to her surprise. She simply took her queue and leaned in close, resting her head on his shoulder as they looked out over the bay at sunset, content. 

\--

To be continued.


	2. Part Two

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

\--

After that afternoon at the docks, their routines changed and instead of accidentally running into one another, Severus and Hermione had exchanged contact details and made plans to spend time together. Mostly it was to eat or have coffee, sometimes it was to talk about Potions and spend time pouring over notes in his lab, but it always felt like a they had fit together perfect puzzle pieces. 

He was enraptured by her in every way. She had a keen intellect that made her all the more attractive to him. 

And she could certainly hold her own against him in an argument as they had discovered one day when she had accidentally pushed him too far while doing some research for his Lycanthropy cure. She was stubborn as a goat, but he only found it made her more attractive. There was something to be said for strong women that knew their minds and what they wanted. 

They spent an inordinate amount of time at his home, and each time they were together, it was that much harder to watch her leave for the night to sleep in her own bed. Severus had on several occasions tried to remind himself that she was going back to London at the end of the summer and that it was unwise for him to become so attached. But each moment and visit and touch of her lips to his rendered that argument moot and he eventually concluded that he should just enjoy her while she was there with him. 

That night it was a little over two weeks since the first time they had shared a kiss, and he had invited her to share dinner with him at his own home. As it was Friday, he made a trip to the épicerie after returning home from work. He gathered what he would need to make a simple seafood pasta dish, grabbing a couple of bottles of wine. He had not consumed any alcohol around her since that night when they had eaten at the restaurant some weeks ago. Severus was unsure of what he wanted to come of this evening, even as he was preparing for it. 

Did he want to ask her to stay with him the night? How was she likely to respond? Other than their increasingly heated kisses, the physical intimacy between them had been friendly but affectionate. It didn’t take a genius to realise that he was physically aroused by her. Simply being in the same room as her and watching her pull her bottom lip into her mouth to be abused by her teeth as she nibbled on it while she worked made his abdomen tight with need. Hell, imagining it on his walk home was making him hard. 

He quickened his stride, hastening home to chill their wine and prepare their meal. 

At exactly seven o’clock the doorbell rang indicating that Hermione had arrived. He quickly washed his hands, drying them with a tea towel as he made his way to the front door. Slinging the towel over his shoulder, he opened the door to reveal a siren before him. 

Hermione was wearing a simple black dress that evening with tiny straps over her shoulders, and little black kitten heals. Her hair was swept back on one side as she had done before with that tortoiseshell clip fastening it. She had her signature scent of water and lilacs and he breathed in sharply as how beautiful she was. She had no idea how stunning and unassuming she was. She had obviously gone to some effort to tame her hair into manageable curls and applied a small amount of makeup for the occasion. 

He did not feel remotely deserving of the beauty before him. 

‘You look dashing, Severus,’ she said, breaking the silence. 

He shook his head and quirked a small smile at her. ‘You are the breathtaking one, Hermione,’ he replied quietly. 

A blush stole across her cheeks and down her neck, disappearing into her cleavage. The dress accentuated her modest curves nicely, and Severus rather thought it would look very nice on the floor of his bedroom. Swallowing, he held his hand out to escort her inside. The door had barely closed when he closed in on her, her back pressed against it as he loomed close, hunger in his dark eyes. He dropped his head down slightly and she tilted her chin up for them to meet in a sublime kiss that fairly took his breath away once more. 

After a few moments of languid kisses, Hermione’s stomach made a small grumble, and he broke away from her with a chuckle. 

‘I guess I had better feed you,’ he remarked, smirking at her blush. 

‘It smells incredible in here,’ she replied, stepping away from the front door and smoothing her hands over her dress. 

‘Come and take a seat,’ he said, ushering her into the small dining room. 

He had gone to great efforts to set the table elegantly. He wasn’t the kind of person who bought roses or chocolates for women, but for her he wanted to be. A single blush coloured rose lay across her setting. He pulled out her chair and she sat down, catching his hand in her own as he moved to walk past her. Surprised, he paused, and she pressed a kiss to his palm. He leaned down and captured her lips with his own for a scorching kiss that left them both dizzy before releasing her and straightening himself. 

‘If I don’t go and retrieve our dinner now, I fear we will never get around to eating tonight,’ he said, his voice husky with arousal. 

She made a small mewl of disappointment but nodded. He slipped into the kitchen and quickly served their meals into a couple of pasta bowls. He tossed the tea towel onto the bench and picked up the bowls, walking back into the other room and placed one in front of Hermione. Rather than sitting on the opposite side of the table, he pulled up the chair right beside her and summoned over his place setting wordlessly. He didn’t want to sit so far away from her. 

‘This looks divine,’ she said before taking her first bite, closing her eyes as she savoured it. ‘You are dangerous, Severus Snape.’ 

He smirked at her comment. ‘How so?’ 

‘It is unfair that you could be so good at so many things,’ she replied. ‘This is possibly the best pasta dish I have ever eaten bar none.’ 

He felt warmth spread across his own cheeks and through his chest then. Having Hermione around had been excellent for his ego. He had spent so much of his life being unnoticed that having this beautiful woman openly praise him and show with actions how attracted she was to him was very gratifying. 

He smiled at her, taking her free hand in his as they ate in companionable silence. After a while she sat back from her plate, having consumed most of it and sighed, patting her stomach. 

‘If I eat another bite, I think I might explode,’ she said, smiling shyly. 

Without another word, he waved his hand over their plates and cutlery silently and it disappeared to the kitchen. He would deal with the dishes later. Picking up their wine glasses, he led the way to his office upstairs. There was a chaise lounge by the window and the walls were not visible because they were entirely covered by bookshelves. He had not brought her into this room before as they had spent the majority of their time in his home down in the basement in his lab. 

‘Have a seat,’ he said before placing their glasses on the nearby coffee table.

‘This room is incredible!’ She exclaimed, looking around at the book-lined walls. 

‘I thought you would appreciate it,’ he replied smugly. 

‘Dinner was lovely, but honestly I would have just come here to see the books,’ she said, a hint of teasing in her tone. 

Severus sat down on the lounge beside her, and in a blink of an eye, soon had a lap full of incredibly attractive, soft and nice-smelling witch. Her black dress was bunched up around her thighs, with a leg on either side of him as she straddled him. Her lips immediately pressed to the column of his throat, spreading hot little kisses everywhere. His hands grasped at her hips as he allowed her to ravage him briefly. He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt her warm, wet little tongue gently trace the scars on his right side. That same tongue and hot little mouth soon latched onto his earlobe and gently sucked. 

It took all his fading self-control not to moan as she did this. Deciding it was time for him to take back some control, he quickly picked up and deposited her onto her back on the lounge, inserting a knee between her splayed thighs and pressing himself down onto her. He captured her mouth in a heated kiss, his hands running up her sides, stroking her gently as he enjoyed the sweet taste of her mouth. His hands finally reached the underside of her breast and he firmly swiped him thumb over the flesh, causing her to moan her pleasure into his mouth. 

That sounds caused something in him to snap and he broke their kiss to sit back for a moment and take in the woman before him. She looked utterly wanton with her dress and hair in disarray, her eyelids only half open from desire. Hermione’s pretty pink lips were plump and wet from their ministrations and her bosom was heaving slightly from her hurried breath. He grasped the bottom of her dress with his hands, looking into her eyes for permission. She gave a slight nod and pulled herself up into a reclined position so that he could inch the dress off over her head, holding her arms up for him to tug it off properly before leaning back on her elbows. 

The woman before him was a sight to behold. Her body was young and lush, curved in all the right places. She had not worn a bra beneath her little black dress, so her lovely breasts were already visible to him and he took them in like a starving man at a feast. Her waist was so trim before flaring out softly to slightly wider hips. She had a tiny pair of black lace knickers on, and he wondered how easy they would be to rip from her body. His hand drifted up to one of her breasts and he gently ran his thumb over one peaked blushing nipple, and she arched up into him. 

‘You are a goddess,’ he said softly, continuing to caress and play with the rosy bud. 

His hand withdrew and she made a small sound of disappointment. ‘Don’t stop,’ she said, her voice trembling with desire. 

He smiled at her then – a real smile. His hands went to the collar of his shirt and he began to undo the buttons. She sat up then and joined him, starting on the ones at the bottom. They met in the middle and he shrugged out of the offending garment, allowing it to join her dress. He stood and reached for the buttons of his trousers then, and she watched him, unable to look away from him. He knew that he was no prize to look at, but somehow this woman made him feel desirable in a way that no one had is quite some time. He stepped out of his pants and stood before her in just his trunks that were very tented with his obvious arousal. 

She stood up before him then, placing her hands on his chest and tracing her fingers over all the scars that littered his skin. 

‘Take me to bed, Severus,’ she said, turning her face up to him. ‘Make love to me.’ 

He needed no other permission then. He scooped her up into his strong arms, ignoring the squeak of surprise and walked with her in his arms into his bedroom to show her just how much he desired her.

-

Hermione closed her eyes tightly to the sun that filtered into the room. She wasn’t ready for it to be morning yet. 

She sighed and stretched, rolling over a little until her skin met another solid form beside her. She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw the sleeping form of Severus Snape in bed beside her, one arm thrown over his eyes, blocking out the light. She propped herself up a little then on her elbow, marvelling at the man before her. His face was so relaxed in his sleep – he looked ten years younger. 

The sheet that was over them was down at his navel, exposing his chest to her. He was strong with wiry muscles and a very trim build. She imagined that in his days as a spy he was possibly even more muscular, but what she saw was very pleasing to the eye. Hell, women would throw themselves at his feet to have a go with this body she was certain. And just for the time being, this view, and this man, was all hers to enjoy. 

Smiling, she looked around for her wand and found it on her nightstand. She got up and padded over to the bathroom and relieved herself quickly, washing her hands and drying them before casting a quick spell to crack the french doors. They had stayed the night in her rental home, which had surprised Hermione. She didn’t think that Severus would be comfortable with sleeping in a bed that was not his own. Making her way back to the bed, she stopped stared at him for a moment. He was beautiful while he slept.

She slid back into the bed beside him and draped herself over him, hooking one of her legs around his and toying with the light dusting of hair on his chest. She pressed kisses there and allowed her hand to drift lower and below the sheet at his waist. He chuckled then, unable to remain asleep with her hands and lips running over him. 

‘Good morning,’ she murmured, kissing her way up to meet his lips. 

‘Lately, yes,’ he replied, reaching around to grasp her hips and pull her on top of him.

Her legs fell to either side of his waist and she could feel his interest pressing up against her bottom. She wriggled against it and he sucked in a sharp breath at her wickedness. She leaned down, breasts brushing against his chest, and pressed her lips to his. She could almost taste the flavour of his mood in the kiss as they crackled to life together once more. 

About thirty minutes later, after a quick bought of morning lovemaking, they made it to her bathroom to shower away the morning’s activities. She stepped under the shower spray while he relieved himself quickly before joining her. She was pleasantly surprised by the level of trust he showed her, quickly becoming comfortable to be naked around her or use the bathroom with her in the room or earshot. It was nice – it felt very domestic and right. 

Once they were clean and dressed – he cast a cleansing charm on his clothes from the night before, they went down to the kitchen to have breakfast before he went off to work for the day. Snape went about her kitchen to find her french press so that they had coffee to go with the eggs on toast she was quickly throwing together. Another moment of domesticity that had her wondering if he ever thought of her in terms of a relationship. She knew that in two short weeks her leave from work would be over, and she would have to leave him here. But maybe they could try to do a long-distance relationship for a while? They both were very capable of Apparating and they could spend weekends together sometimes. 

Hermione was startled from her musings when a mug of black coffee was pressed into her hands by the subject of them. 

‘Sickle for your thoughts?’ He said, leaning casually against the kitchen bench as he watched her fold the scrambled eggs. 

‘It’s nothing,’ she said quietly. What made her thing that Snape would even want a relationship? 

He frowned at her slightly. ‘I beg to differ,’ he said, quirking an eyebrow at her. ‘Hermione, I am many things, but a mind reader is not one of them.’ 

She sighed, switching off the flame beneath her pan and diving the eggs on plates with the toast already made by the tall man beside her. 

‘I’ll be leaving in two weeks,’ she said softly, feeling a tightness in her chest. 

‘So, you will,’ he replied, picking up his plate so that they could sit at the table, his expression giving nothing away. 

‘I guess I’ve just been wondering what will happen when I do,’ she replied. ‘Between us, I mean.’ 

He paused with a forkful of food looming near his mouth. ‘I didn’t realise you would be thinking about that sort of thing.’ 

‘I know,’ she said, starting to feel flustered. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry for bringing it up.’ 

‘Have you been thinking about whether we should try to attempt a relationship long distance?’ He said, making her pause in eating her eggs as well. 

‘I don’t want to pressure you. I knew that this was, well… I knew that there was a chance that this was all only temporary. We are undeniably attracted to one another, but I was under no illusions that you wanted anything more than a summer with me…’

‘A summer filled with good memories, that you can take back with you and file away,’ he said, his voice sounding a little clipped. ‘I am a busy man, and you are also a terribly busy and driven person. A relationship would be exceedingly difficult for two busy people who live on different continents, Hermione. You’re currently seeing this,’ he gestured between them. ‘…us with a holiday lens. We must be practical. It will not be this easy if we are no longer in the same city.’ 

Hermione ducked her head, her earlier happiness fading fast. ‘Yes, of course you are right,’ she said, keeping her eyes on the plate of food before her. The fluffy eggs and sourdough bread held no interest to her now.

She had no idea what Snape’s eyes looked like now because she knew that if she looked, she would probably break down and cry. Her feelings for him had grown over the past few months since that day she had run into him at the grocery. Aside from a mutual and intense attraction, she had no idea if Snape had feelings for her at all. He gave almost nothing away when it came to emotions. She bit her lip and tried to force herself to be reasonable. They finished their breakfast in silence and Snape cleared their plates. She walked with him to the front door to see him off and noted his features had been carefully schooled to neutral. She put a hand on his arm and leaned up to kiss his cheek the way she had just a few months before, and he nodded to her and disappeared through the door.

An aching sadness filled her and a single tear escaped her eye, making it’s journey down her cheek. She had a feeling that her fate with him had been sealed that morning.

-

The clock in his office chimed loudly and Severus lazily looked up to see that it was five o’clock. He had been staying a little later in his office again now that the summer was over. Now that Hermione was gone… 

Frowning, he shook his head. He was a fool.

The last time he had seen Hermione had been three weeks ago in her kitchen when she had essentially asked him for a longer commitment, and he had as good as thrown it back in her face. He was a heartless fool. The moment the words were out of his mouth he knew he had said something terrible and the pain in his chest from the memory was all he needed to know just how foolish he had been. There she had sat, a woman he had come to have strong feelings for, offering her enormous heart on a plate before him and he had callously stomped on it. Her facial expression had near broken him down, but he persisted in being a cold bastard. 

He did not deserve her. 

Severus probably would never feel like her deserved a woman as good as she. She was like sunlight, all radiant and sparkling and warm. She deserved better than to be tied down to a bitter old man such as he. He did not enjoy having made this decision for her – he knew all too well how it felt to have every decision in his life made for him by Dumbledore and Tom Riddle both. But if she had her way, he would have broken her heart one day by saying or doing something hurtful. Better to hurt her now in the short term than let it play out longer and have both of them hurting worse. 

Hermione Granger was a liability. A wonderful, beautiful, interesting, intelligent liability. No woman had managed to worm their way into his life or penetrate his walls as she had in such a short time frame. Even with Lily Potter there had always been something that held him back from being open with her. He had never told Lily how he felt or given her a chance to hurt him by turning him away. 

And yet Hermione had stood before him and offered him everything he could ever want and then some, and he found himself unable to read out and take it. Perhaps it was because this time there was truly too much at stake. Perhaps this time, it was all too real and the promise of what he could have was within his grasp and if he reached out to take it, it would crush him if she were to change her mind down the track. 

So, he launched a preemptive attack instead, to shield himself from the possibility of losing her.

It made no logical sense, but there it was. Sighing heavily and rubbing a hand over his eyes, he stood from his desk and gathered his papers for the day, sliding them into his briefcase. He locked up his office and Apparated home shucking his robes and frock coat, hanging them before walking upstairs to his office. He dropped his case onto the desk and dropped onto the lounge, putting his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. The very same lounge that he had slid that little black dress up his firm little body. He launched himself off the chair and out of the room, walking down the stairs again and into the kitchen. He was restless. 

He filled a glass with water from the tap, swallowing it down, splashing himself in the face with a little water. 

He needed a distraction. Opening the fridge, he surveyed the contents and decided to try and cook to distract himself. There were things he needed, so he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, unbuttoning the top few buttons around his collar and grabbing his bags from the bench. He went to the épicerie filling his bag with vegetables, a roast and a variety of seasonings and herbs. He grabbed a bottle of red and went to the counter to pay.

Marie looked at him with concern written plainly on her face. ‘Mon chérie, you do not look well,’ she said, looking at him with sad eyes. 

‘I am just fine, Marie,’ he replied, not meeting her eyes. 

‘Your young lady is not with you this evening?’ 

‘She was on holiday for just a few months and has returned to her life in London,’ he said, his jaw clenched. ‘I’m afraid the young lady will not be returning.’

‘Oh chérie, I am so sorry,’ she said, bustling around the counter and hugging him warmly around the middle. 

Severus stiffened slightly in surprise, but he did not pull away. He put a hand on her back and accepted her motherly comforting and fussy. She really did remind him of Minerva, especially now. 

‘It was not meant to be,’ he rasped, voice heavy with untold emotion. 

‘Non chérie,’ Marie said, stepping back so that she could see his face. ‘I can see it in your eyes that your heart has been broken. I have known you for many years, yes? When that young woman arrived here, you were like a different man. She is the light to your darkness. You were destined for one another.’ 

Severus stood there in shock. Nobody had ever been as frank with him before. Not a single soul had ever tried to call him out on his self-imposed misery. And yet this formidable and kind woman stood before him and told him he was wrong. Wrong to give up on Hermione, and wrong about what he deserved. 

‘It is too late,’ he rasped. ‘I was not kind to her when she left… I’m afraid I have ruined any chance of her returning my… affection.’ 

Marie smiled and shook her head. ‘That girl loves you. I could see it in her eyes.’ 

‘But I… I don’t know what to—‘ he began. 

She raised a hand and cut off his argument. ‘You know exactly what you need to do.’ 

Marie returned to the other side of the counter and Severus quickly paid her, his mind trying to process the conversation they had just had. With a small smile and a nod, he grabbed his bag and made his way home with some haste. 

He opened his refrigerator the moment he got home and started to think as he prepared his meal. As he put the roast in the oven and set the timer, an idea came to him. He went upstairs taking them two at a time to his office, pulling a fresh piece of parchment out at his desk and uncapping his ink. Grasping for a quill he began to write a short missive, sealing it before stepping up to the fireplace and throwing in some Floo powder. It had been a long time since he had sent anyone in London a letter, but he was sure it had not changed much. 

Tossing the letter into the green flames he paused for a moment, steeling himself. ‘Kingsley Shacklebolt, Ministry of Magic,’ he spoke clearly. 

And with that the letter and the flames disappeared. Releasing a shaky breath, Severus went back down to the kitchen to finish preparing his meal. He was filled with nervous energy after sending a letter that just might change the course of his life forever. Smiling, he picked up a knife and continued to prepare all the vegetables, hope bubbling up within him for the first time in many long years.

-

Hermione watch listlessly as big fat droplets of rain hit the windows in her office. Autumn had well and truly begun in London and the dreariness and chill in the air did very little to raise her spirits.

Since her return from Saint-Jean-De-Luz, Hermione had thrown herself completely back into her work. She was working long hours at St. Mungo’s both with patients and brewing. The temporary brewer she had hired to fill her brewing commitments while she was away had been competent enough at the day-to-day but there was still a lot of catch-up to be played. She also welcomed the distraction so that she didn’t have time to think about her holiday or Severus Snape. 

It had been nearly a month since her return from France, and six long, agonising weeks since the last time she had beheld the tall, dark, brooding man that she had recklessly fallen in love with. It had taken some time and denial on her part to come to terms with the fact that she had unwittingly given her heart away. In some ways the discovery made so much sense to her, but on the other hand, it made the whole thing hurt just that much more. 

The clock on the wall above her office fire chimed, alerting her to the time. It was already five o’clock in the evening, and she had plans to have a drink with Ginny Potter after work that day. 

She dearly loved her friends, but at that moment she was not really in the mood for socialising. But it was too late to cancel. Sighing heavily, she packed up her things for the day, placing what she needed to take home into her satchel. She locked her office on the way out, waving goodbye to the other staff not finished for the day on her way out. She Apparated straight to Diagon Alley and made her way to the Leaky Cauldron where she had agreed to meet with her friend. 

Inside the pub she sat down in one of the free booths, near enough to the door that Ginny would be able to spot her right away. A few moments later, the red-haired beauty entered and scanned the place with her eyes before finally locking onto her. Hermione stood up to revive the tight hug that her affectionate friend foisted on her. 

‘It’s so good to see you!’ Ginny exclaimed. 

‘I know! It has been too long,’ Hermione replied with a small smile. ‘Four months is simply too long.’ 

Her friend chuckled, shaking her head. ‘It’s hardly my fault you abandoned the home country for three months and then came back and worked every free second you have!’

Hermione shrugged. ‘I don’t deny that I am a workaholic.’ 

‘Let me get the first round,’ Ginny said, jumping up and wading through the crowd to the bar. 

She returned moments later with two pints of beer, plopping down into her seat and pushing one over to Hermione. 

‘I hope you like Amber Ale,’ she said with a wink, taking a deep swallow of the amber-gold liquid. 

‘Honestly, I will drink anything today.’ 

They spent the next hour catching up on what had happened over the Summer, Hermione encouraging Ginny to take the lead on the conversation and catch her up on Harry and the rest of the Weasley’s. Their eldest son James was soon to have his fifth birthday, and their youngest, Albus was showing the first signs on magic as the young age of three. Ron and the former Lavender Brown were expecting their second child – a little boy. And both Molly and Arthur were as they had ever been. 

‘So, what’s new with you?’ Ginny asked, giving her a suspicious look. 

Hermione smiled. There was no pulling the wool over Ginevra Potter’s eyes – she was as shrewd as her mother. ‘Honestly, Gin, I met someone while I was on holiday.’ 

‘I knew it!’ 

‘Don’t get too excited,’ Hermione said, her chest beginning to tighten with emotion. ‘It didn’t end very well, and as you can see, I am back here and alone again.’ 

‘Oh dear,’ Ginny replied, her face expression becoming concerned. ‘Are you okay?’ 

She chuckled, and even to her own ears it sounded bitter. ‘Not exactly,’ she answered truthfully. ‘But I think I will be eventually.’ 

Ginny’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Oh my word. You went and fell in love with him, didn’t you?’ 

‘It doesn’t matter any more, Gin. It is over. It has been for weeks,’ she said sombrely. ‘I haven’t heard from him in six weeks, and I doubt that is going to change.’ 

Thankfully, Ginny knew when it was time to give up on a topic and tactfully steered the conversation in another direction. They talked about work for a little while before Ginny realised that it was time for her to head home to her family and relieve Harry from parent duty. The two women walked out of the pub together and embraced, with Ginny extracting the promise of a visit the following weekend. 

And with that, Hermione Apparated home, finally able to let the sadness she had been filled with all afternoon escape her in a soft sob, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. Annoyed with herself, she roughly swiped at them with the back of her hand and hung her work robes and satchel over the hooks by her front door. She would deal with her bag later on that weekend. 

She went upstairs and showered, scrubbing the day away. After stepping out from under the spray and drying herself with a quick charm, she dressed is her most comfortable grey sweater, a pair of black cotton tights, and slid her feet into her waiting slippers. Her house was not unbearably cold, but there was a definite chill in the air, and the rain had started to pelt down once more. She was just getting through taming her hair into a giant braid when she heard the front doorbell ring. 

Frowning and wondering who would be calling on her at eight o’clock on a Friday night, she pushed her wand up the sleeve of her sweater and made her way down to answer it. 

Unlocking the door, she pulled it open and felt her stomach immediately bottom out. Standing there on her front porch in white shirt and black jeans, was none other then Severus Snape. His eyes were totally inscrutable as usual, and his hair and clothing were damp from the rain. She had no idea why he would cast a shielding charm to send the rain flying off him, but that was incredibly low on the list of questions she had about his sudden arrival. 

‘Severus,’ she said, her voice was shaking. 

‘Hermione,’ he replied, his voice was low and even. ‘Might I come in?’ 

Hands trembling, she opened the door wider and stood aside to let him into her home. Her head was beginning to spin with the many questions on the tip of her tongue. He walked inside and she shut the door, taking an extra moment to breath as she locked it behind them. 

‘Come through to the sitting room and I will light a fire,’ she said, proud of herself for managing to control her words once more. ‘You are soaked through.’ 

She led the way, summoning a towel from upstairs and handing it to Snape as she busied herself with lighting a fire. She poked at the fireplace with her wand, sending two short busts of flame into the kindling and watching as it caught. She could feel his presence looming not too far behind her and heard the towel rasp over his hair. He had probably already wordlessly cast a drying charm on his clothing and body, but she knew he preferred to towel, and air dry his hair – his one vanity. 

Hugging her arms around her body, she finally turned around to face the man who had been occupying an inordinate amount of space in her brain and heart. He was staring straight at her, his dark eyes boring into her own. She released herself briefly, gesturing to the lounge behind him. She deliberately sat herself in the armchair opposite him, maintaining some distance. She tucked her feet up beneath her.

‘Why are you here, Severus?’ She choked out, her voice thick with tears unshed.

‘Hermione,’ he said after a moment, her name on his lips sending a shiver down her spine. ‘I have come to explain myself if you would permit me to?’

‘I wouldn’t mind an explanation,’ she said softly, looking down at her hands in her lap. 

‘Let me begin by apologising,’ he began, his voice suddenly a little more nervous. ‘When you found me this summer, I had been alone for a very long time. I was not looking for a relationship, and I most certainly had not expected to see you in Saint-Jean. You took me by surprise.’ 

He paused for a moment, swallowing, and inhaling a deep breathe before continuing with his story. ‘I saw you at the market the day you had arrived I think, but I didn’t know it was you until you ran right into me in front of the store and I smelled your perfume. I was immediately captivated by you, and honestly it scared me.’ 

Hermione looked up at him then and saw his earnest expression, the plea in his eyes imploring her to believe him. She nodded at him to continue silently. 

‘You were like a breath of fresh air, and I consumed you, taking from you and giving nothing back. That morning six weeks ago when you bared yourself to me and asked me for a relationship… I wanted to say yes to you then, but I could not. I did not think that I deserved what you were so freely offering me. I still don’t, really,’ he said quietly. ‘A few weeks ago, I had a conversation with a dear friend who helped me to understand what a fool I was being to pass up the opportunity to for something… real with you. I have been self-sabotaging and punishing myself for my many crimes ever since the night of Lily Potter’s death. I don’t know if I will ever fully be able to forgive myself, but the least I can do is try.’ 

Hermione felt the air leave her lungs at his admission. 

‘Hermione, I am sorry for treating you so poorly. You undoubtedly deserve better than a damaged old man such as myself, but if you are willing, I would be grateful if you would give me a second chance.’ 

She could not believe the words that he had just spoken. Hope began to unfurl and take flight within her once more, and she could feel her heartbeat in her throat. 

‘I think I would like that very much,’ she said, barely above a whisper.

And in a flash she launched herself up and out of the armchair, closing the gap between them and pushing him back on the lounge so she could sit astride his legs as she had done so many times during the summer. His hands immediately went to her waist to support her, and her hands cupped his face and she stared into his eyes for a long moment before pressing het lips to his in the first kiss they had shared since the morning in her kitchen. Snape responded with the fire that she had been missing, his hands moving to cup her cheek and the back of her neck firmly. 

After a few moments of long, languid kisses, Hermione pulled back, resting her forehead against his, her eyes closed as she caught her breath. 

‘I love you,’ she said, finally admitting her feelings out loud, uncaring if they were reciprocated in that moment. 

She opened her eyes and pulled back to so that she could read his face. His dark eyes scanned her own, trying to ascertain how serious she was. He took her lips in another brief but passionate exchange. 

‘In spite of my recent actions and behaviour, I want you to know that you have brought me back to life, Hermione Granger,’ he murmured, pressing a line of kisses down her throat. Lifting his head back up, he stared directly into her eyes. ‘Only a fool would not accept and return your love.’ 

‘I love you,’ he whispered finally, crushing her to him in a fierce embrace. 

And as they sat there, simply holding onto to one another, Hermione knew that it was going to be okay this time.

-

The days that followed were a bit of a blur. The day after Severus has returned to London to make amends with Hermione, he had a companionable breakfast with her before he had to return to Saint-Jean to pack up his house. He intended to keep the house and simply render it useful as a holiday home should he and Hermione have some time off together to relax. 

He had told her that morning about the plans he had set into motion for a move back to the UK to be closer to her. She had been so thrilled that she knocked them both over on her kitchen chair and they had lay sprawled but happy on the kitchen floor. It was possibly one of the most uncomfortable and yet totally satisfying love-making sessions of his adult life. 

Now, days later he was in his old home at Spinner’s End, slowly unpacking the contents of his life in France into the house that he had grown up in. After the war he had of course had the whole house renovated so that it did not look remotely like his childhood home. He had even had a lab built in the basement, but this was all before he had decided to move to France to escape his past. It was a lucky thing that he had built it indeed, as he fully planned to continue working on his Lycanthropy cure, and now Hermione would be close by to help him whenever he had a problem or got stuck on something for a fresh perspective. He was also going to be doing sub-contract work for the Department of Mysteries with the Unspeakables, which he had arranged with Kingsley Shacklebolt the day before he had come to see Hermione. 

As he charmed the last of his books into the restore shelves of his office on the ground floor, he stood back and surveyed the room with satisfaction. It was easily the biggest job having to shrink down, pack and then restore his precious library. Not only that, but Hermione would be livid if any of the books had been damaged in the move. Her love of books truly rivalled his own, and he found her to be incredibly charming as she consumed them. 

Shrinking down the moving boxes, he stored them in a slightly larger box that would go into the top of the hall closet. 

He was about to walk into the sitting room to do a few little bits in there when he heard the front doorbell ring. Casting a quick wandless cleansing charm, He walked over to the door, opening it to find his lady love standing on the front porch, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. 

‘Hermione, what a pleasant surprise,’ he said warmly, opening the door wider to let her inside. ‘You do recall me mentioning that you are welcome to Apparate directly into the front hall though, do you not?’ 

‘I recall just fine,’ she said with a smile, bustling past him. ‘But then I wouldn’t get to press the doorbell and wait. I like the anticipation to build a little – it makes your kisses all the more sweet.’ 

And without waiting for an invitation, he found his arms full of warm, sweet witch, her lips pressing hungrily against his. She smelled of lilacs and it made him instantly nostalgic for their summer together in France. His arousal grew as their kisses became heated, lips and tongues mating together in a dance of the flesh. He hadn’t even noticed he had pressed her up agains the wall in the hallway, pining her there with his long frame as they snogged like a couple of randy teens. 

Finally, he broke off the kiss and stared down at her flushed face. ‘Not that I am in any way complaining, but what brings you here in the middle of the day? Are you not working at St. Mungo’s today?’ 

Hermione smirked, running her fingers gently over the fly of his jeans, teasing the hardness that lay beneath. She was uniquely gifted at drawing passion out of him. He groaned softly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath so as not to take her right there in the middle of his front foyer. 

‘I am. I decided to take a long lunch today because I knew you’d be back from Saint-Jean and unpacking today,’ she murmured, eyes never leaving his as her hands began to undo the button of his fly and the zipper slid down with a soft rasp. ‘I missed you these past few days.’ 

His eyes rolled back in his head as her hand slid down into his undergarments, grasping the velvet skin of his turgid shaft. He could not hold back the groan as she stroked him slowly. ‘You are going to be the death of me, Hermione,’ he ground out, reaching down to halt her ministrations. 

She opened her mouth to protest but instead emitted a small squeak of surprise as he hoisted her up into his arms and over one shoulder, carrying her up the stairs towards his bedroom. She weakly protested being carried that way, and in no time, she was unceremoniously deposited into the middle of the large king bed that dominated the room. Severus undid the buttons of his shirt slowly, gratified that her eyes watched his every movement as he stripped down to nothing before her. He motioned for her to stand, and slowly, worshipping every bit of skin that he unveiled, Severus removed all her clothes as well, paying special attention to her breasts, her dusky pink nipples standing proud. He made his way down to crux of her thighs, where he teased her with his mouth and long, nibble fingers until she writhed and bucked her hips, falling onto the bed afterwards as her legs had turned to noodles from her release. 

He joined her on the bed then, inserting himself between her thighs and bracing himself over her. He did not wait long before sliding into her heated depths, pausing briefly to regain some semblance of control before he began to move within her. He leaned down to kiss her, pouring the love he felt for her into all of it, hoping she would understand him. Her legs wrapped around him pulling him in even deeper. He snaked a hand down their bodies, briefly caressing her breasts on the way down to the bundle of nerves that lay between them. He punctuated his circling and pressing of her flesh with the movements inside her until they both found release and saw colours that he didn’t even know existed. 

After a moment of catching his breath, he let himself slide out of her, casting a cleansing charm over their bodies to remove any undesirable fluids. He pulled the covers down then, helping her to slide beneath them with him. 

‘That was…’ Hermione began breathlessly. 

‘… it was indeed,’ he finished for her. ‘Come, love.’ 

He reached out an arm for her to snuggle into his side, and she moved into him easily, spooning against him. They fit together like a hand in a glove. In the aftermath of their lovemaking, they rested, Hermione immediately yawing and falling asleep as she snuggled her head on his chest. He stroked her hair with one long-fingered hand, a smile of contentment on his lips. 

He wasn’t sure if he would ever believe he deserved her but he didn’t remotely care. He might have only seen her in passing that day in Saint-Jean-De-Luz, but he was ever so grateful to whichever gods, real or imagined, that had arranged for her to run into him in the street. 

For the first time in his life, Severus Snape closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into sleep with a broad smile stretching his lips. He was content.

\--

A/N – Thank you for reading my little tale of love. It has been roughly seven years since the last time I wrote any fiction, fan or otherwise. And I fully intended for this to be a one-shot but the literary bug that bit me had other ideas. The title ‘En Passant’ translates to ‘in passing’ or ‘by the way’ in English and holds a great deal of meaning to me. My husband is a chess player, and there is a move in chess named En Passant which I thought was also fitting. It also happens to be the name of my very favourite fragrance from Frederic Malle and was the perfume that I wore on my wedding day. I hope you enjoyed my ramblings and know that I welcome constructive feedback with open arms. Again, I would like to thank my DHLane for taking time out of her busy schedule to iron out my mistakes - you are a gem.


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